


Christmas wrapping

by vinyl_octopus



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinyl_octopus/pseuds/vinyl_octopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a <a href="http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=12988641#cmt12988641">prompt</a>: Happy Christmas - Since Douglas has been so very good, Martin gets all tied up in ribbons, decorations, and bows. Douglas gets to unwrap him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas wrapping

The tinsel had, in hindsight, been a mistake. Not only was it itchy, but some of the tassels? Fronds? were in danger of causing him to sneeze. Which would ruin the surprise. It had taken rather more effort than he'd expected to hide under the tree once he'd trussed himself up. 

Still, he hoped it would be worth it. 

Probably next time he'd tie his hands at the front, rather than the back, he thought, with a wiggle that rocked the plastic tree worryingly. But admittedly that aspect hadn't been entirely planned. They were less tied and more tangled. 

Mind you the whole _thing_ had started by accident, after Douglas had teased him mercilessly after finding Martin sitting at the dining table, festooned with ribbons over each shoulder and around his neck in an attempt to keep them untangled as he wrapped an otherwise perfect production line of presents. It had all been going well until he realised one of the ribbons had got inadvertently taped to the bottom of one of the early parcels. 

He only found this out when he stood up to reach the next roll of wrapping paper and there'd been something of a landslide with Martin at its foot. 

Martin. Who'd told Douglas _he'd_ wrap everything because he knew about precision and order and Douglas would just make a slapdash attempt. 

Douglas had laughed himself sick. 

And then helped Martin rewrap everything. Perfectly. 

The bastard. 

 

But now it was Christmas morning. The gifts were piled high under and around the enormous tree - Martin would have liked a real one, having gone without entirely during all his years at the share house, but as Douglas pointed out, the romance of a real tree was lost when one was so frequently out of the country at this time of the year, and coming home to a carpet strewn with dead needles was not as comforting as one might think. They’d compromised with an enormous lifelike one that slotted together fairly easily and took them hours to decorate. 

It had, Martin noticed, still dropped needles all over the floor. 

Martin had been awake since the wee hours since he'd come up with this ludicrous plan. It...hadn't really occurred to him that Douglas might sleep in on Christmas, although he’d only snuffled a bit when Martin had slipped out of their bed. He had himself been rather childishly excited about spending their first Christmas together. 

Well, a netherward twitch under layers of ribbon and tinsel corrected him, maybe not _childishly_ excited. But certainly... Anticipatory. He shifted, uncomfortable in a different way now, and cooled his thoughts a little. Might have tied that _particular_ ribbon a little too tight. 

He couldn't see a clock from where he was lying but he was sure he'd been waiting for hours by now. He really didn't want to ruin things by calling for Douglas. 

They'd promised each other one special gift each, and knowing Douglas as he did, Martin suspected he would sneak his gift under the tree before breakfast. He heaved as much of a sigh as was possible, given the tinsel criss-crossing his chest, and tried to tuck his legs into a more comfortable position where they were curled half under the tree and half concealed behind the settee. He had definite pins and ( _ho, ho, ho_ ) needles in one foot.  


Finally the sounds of shuffling feet, water running, and doors opening and closing upstairs told him Douglas was up and about. 

There was a long period of silence before the creak of the stairs indicated Douglas coming down. More shuffling and the rattle of pots and pans. 

Martin groaned quietly to himself. Surely Douglas wasn't going to make breakfast? Well of course he was. Martin should have foreseen that really. Douglas was no doubt making them a romantic breakfast in bed – even though Martin wasn't _in_ their bed... And here _he_ was stuck under the tree. 

Quite literally, now he thought about it. The hard plastic foot of the tree was dug into his back and, he gave a tentative squirm, he had a horrible feeling that when he'd wriggled under, the curling ribbon twining his wrists had probably caught on the same thing. 

Well that was awkward. Now he really would have to wait for Douglas or else... 

A bare foot came into view, accompanied by the pleasant sound of Douglas humming “Good King Wenceslas”. 

It was still quite dim in the living room. Daylight only just peeking around the still dawn curtains. 

A hairy knee brushed Martin's nose as Douglas knelt down by the tree, flicking on the switch for the fairylights, apparently not yet having seen Martin. 

Martin resisted the urge to scrunch his nose and do away with the renewed tickle. The tinsel fluttered as he breathed carefully. 

The humming hitched as Douglas let out a sigh and propped a small parcel on top of one of the gaily wrapped boxes to the left of Martin's head, giving the gift a little pat and then stretching to his feet with a groan.

 

Martin finally, 

 

_finally_ … 

 

… sneezed. 

 

The whole tree shook, decorative bells ringing merrily. 

Douglas leapt back with a yell. 

“Martin? I thought you were squirrelled away in the spare room doing some last minute wrapping or something!” 

Douglas crouched down to look under the tree. 

He was, Martin noticed with ribbon-tightening observation, _naked_. 

“I was. Earlier. Um... Merry Christmas?” 

Douglas chuckled. “Are you my gift?” 

“Maybe.” Martin grinned cheekily, quite a feat considering he was squashed and contorted under the tree and staring up at Douglas at a twisted angle. "Would you like to unwrap me?" 

"W-e-e-ellll.... I was thinking breakfast before gifts..." Douglas pretended to ponder the situation.... "but perhaps we could open _one_ gift each?" He held out his hand. "Come on, then." 

Martin flushed a little. "Ah, I'm afraid you might have to... Get your gift out from under the tree yourself. I seem to be a bit... Stuck." 

Douglas snorted. “Of course you are.” He reached under to pull Martin out by the shoulders and the whole tree tipped alarmingly. “Goodness, Martin, what on earth have you done?” 

“Might've got a bit tangled...” 

Douglas heaved an amused sigh and repositioned himself so he could lean over Martin and untangle his hands from the tree base. 

This put Martin's face in rather intimate viewing space of Douglas's groin. Which was sporting a jaunty, and festive, red velvet bow. 

Martin huffed out a laugh. 

The huff of warm breath caught Douglas in all the right places and Martin watched him twitch in response. 

“Well, sir,” he said, finally sitting back and helping now-freed Martin crawl out from under the tree and into his lap. “It seems great minds think alike.” He brushed Martin’s somewhat ruffled curls back from his forehead. “Happy Christmas, Martin.” 

“Happy Christmas, Douglas,” said Martin, catching Douglas's lips in a deep kiss and tugging the end of the red ribbon so it fell seamlessly away to the soundtrack of Douglas’s appreciative groan. 

Martin's wrapping took a little more effort to undo. Scissors became necessary. But as they lay panting, and sweaty, and covered with specks of glitter and pieces of tinsel, Martin's skin flushed from the kisses Douglas had bestowed to soothe the irritation of what could only be described as tinsel rash, they both agreed that the effort had been more than worth it.


End file.
